


parking lot trash

by zefive



Category: Night In The Woods (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angus is barely there, Gen, Gregg Feels, Self-Hatred, kinda spoilers??, sorry big guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 19:43:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9919268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zefive/pseuds/zefive
Summary: Gregg has bad days; bad thoughts.





	

Angus is too good for him, really.

It's something Gregg thinks about a lot, at least lately. When it's the middle of the night, and they're squeezed together in the loft bed, and everything is quiet except for Angus' snoring, and Gregg can't sleep- he thinks about it, then. About how good Angus is, how wonderful and amazing and _perfect_ , and how Gregg- isn't.

He's trash; parking lot trash, who carries around knives and does crime, and without Angus he'd probably go to jail, ruin his life and everyone else's life, infect them and rot them, somehow.

He presses himself closer to Angus, just a bit, squeezing his eyes close.

Angus deserves better than him; and it's kind of selfish, isn't it, of Gregg to cling to Angus anyway, to keep him even though he deserves _better_ than some fuck up like Gregg.

His breath shakes, and he burrows his face in Angus' fur, clings to him- he hates this, hates the way he's so _afraid_. He doesn't know what he'd do if he lost Angus. He doesn't know how he'd survive that.

Angus mumbles- his snoring has petered off, and a part of Gregg hopes he'll wake up; but that's _selfish_ , and his breath hitches, and his eyes are stinging, and Angus deserves _so much better_.

There's a shift- an arm wraps around him, and a sleepy, confused voice says: “Bug?”

Gregg shakes his head; he wants to talk about it, he _do_ , because it sits on his ribcage like a fucking weight, but he doesn't want to lose Angus. He doesn't want him to realise that what Gregg is thinking is true- that Angus _is_ too good for him, that Gregg isn't worth shit, that all of this is just-

He tries to stifle the sob, but it's fucking impossible.

“Hon? Gregg?” Angus' voice is hurried with concern, and Gregg hates it, hates how he's making Angus worry and fret, and he sobs again, shoulders shaking with it, and _oh_ , this is a bad day, isn't it.

Angus' arms, both of them, wraps around him and there's some shuffling- shifting around, moving and tugging, and then Gregg is sitting in Angus' embrace, held and rocked, and Gregg can't do anything but cry.

He feels so _dumb_.

“Shhh,” goes Angus, again and again, murmuring and reassuring “It's okay, bug, it's okay, I'm here, I love you-”

_You shouldn't_ , Gregg wants to say, suddenly, but that's awful, he's awful, Angus deserves so much better than _awful_ Gregg who does nothing but stupid and self-destructive things.

“I'm sorry,” he gasps out, curling his fingers into Angus' fur, and his chest hurts so bad, like he's being torn open or some shit like that- he can't stop crying, and his head is pounding, and he just-

He wishes he was better.

“Don't be,” Angus says, in a tight tone. “Please don't. There's nothing for you to be sorry about.”

But there _is_.

“No-” he sniffs, hard, tries to swallow the sobbing, because he- he thinks he needs to say this, at least some of it, because he wants to say _sorry_. He wants to apologize. “I- I'm sorry I'm not good enough-”

Angus flinches.

It's soft, barely noticeable, except Gregg is used to noticing this, is used to watching Angus as closely as he can, and besides, he's more or less wrapped around Angus, so it's hard to miss, really.

And he's fucked something up- he's done _something wrong_ , and of course he has, _of course he has_ , and he wants to scream, wants to-

He doesn't know.

“Gregg-”

Gregg shakes his head, pushes away- tries to be gentle, because it's _Angus_ , but he's mind is burning down, and he _can't_.

“Can't,” he gasps, and Angus removes his arms, lets him crawl away.

Gregg doesn't want to look at him, because he can just _see_ the hurt, the pain right there on Angus' face, and he's breathing too fast, starting to cry again, and he needs to _go_.

“S-s-s-sorry-” he manages, and he's grasping around, reaching for the ladder he can't see, and Angus is saying _something_ , tone controlled and reassuring, but Gregg doesn't- doesn't deserve that, he made Angus _flinch_ , he hurt Angus, he-

His hand hits the ladder, and he closes his fingers around it, and drags himself off the bed, down onto the ladder.

He stumbles, but that doesn't matter- he just needs to _get down_ , get out, and he nearly slips on the floor, nearly falls over himself as he beelines straight for the apartment door.

“Gregg!”

He wants, for a single moment, to turn around- to tell Angus it's okay, that he don't have to worry. He wants to hold him and tell him it's okay, because there's pain in Angus' voice, right there, and it hurts. It hurts especially, because he's the one that put it there.

But he can't.

So instead he wrenches open the door, and flees out into the dark.

  


The sun is rising.

It's climbing its way over the rooftops, lighting everything up in shades of orange and pink and red- Gregg watches it, listless and tired and _worn_ , and it's not even beautiful, right now.

He's up on a roof, pressed up against the bricks, cold and kind of wet, and it feels fitting, really. He's all numb on the inside, right now, burnt out and empty, and it's- nice, almost, to press his back against the cold and just watch the sun rise.

The light is creeping closer and closer, and Gregg needs to go back- needs to go back home, to Angus and stuff he has to fix, and real life, but right now he doesn't _want_ to.

He misses Mae.

Gregg wraps his arms around himself, breathes in- the air is sharp and cold, and he can't stay here; he has to go.

Mae left. He has to too.

He forces himself up; his legs nearly buckle beneath him, but he manages to catch himself on the bricks, wavering on his feet.

Man, he's really glad he didn't have his knives with him.

Gregg laughs- breathes out puffs of white, and closes his eyes, because he can't really do anything else. He fucked up, he fucked up _real_ bad. And it's still there, clinging to his mind, trying to drag him back to that bad place, and he can't afford it. He can't fuck up again.

He loves Angus.

Maybe he isn't good enough- maybe he's just a piece of garbage, maybe he doesn't deserve Angus. But it doesn't matter.

Angus needs him- he needs Gregg, _a_ Gregg, and right now, Gregg has to be there for Angus.

Yeah. He has to.

He wipes at his face- stares as the sun reaches his rooftop, stretches across the tiles and bricks and settles over him.

It's not warm. Just cold.

 

**Author's Note:**

> yes hello i finished Night In The Woods and i'm kind of dying over Gregg???


End file.
